Iron Spark
by LadyPlague
Summary: I've never been normal. I've never known why. I gave up on finding out who or what I am and joined the United States Marine Corps. I didn't now that my abnormality would get worse throughout my years as a Marine. I didn't know that while on leave from the USMC I'd finally find where I belong. That I'd set alight someones spark. That I'd find a home, but I did. Rated M for a reason!


_AN: Hello loves! Welcome to my Transformers FanFic! A few things for you to know before you start reading it. 1_ _st_ _, I very much dislike the fact that a lot of people have a high school junior fall in love with an autobot, considering that most of the autobots show different levels of age with their personalities, so No high school student falling in love with Optimus Prime. Not gonna happen here. 2_ _nd_ _I love and hate Sam Witwicky. I think his character can be extremely annoying and selfish, so there will be some changes with his character. 3_ _rd_ _I very much dislike reading a word for word transcription of the movies, so that will not be happening here. There will be no inserting a character and having them say someone else's lines. 4_ _th_ _There will be a lot of differences in my story. Yeah the 1s movie will happen, which major to minor changes, I will be writing a lot of the stuff in between movies and most likely drastically changing things once movie 3 hits. Now that you have been warned, I do hope you enjoy my story._

 _Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers in any way, shape, or form._

 _ **Log Entry #1: Private Andromeda Witwicky, USMC.**_

 __ _This is completely ridiculous, but Master Gun Iverson suggested I keep a log, similar to a diary, in order to help me…cope with this transition. Personally I never saw the point in keeping a diary, but if Master Gun says something will help, then I suppose it will. I guess I should start, huh? Explain the reason for keeping this stupid thing._

 _Two days ago, I was in the Canteen in my high school. It's the end of the year pretty much, so shit tons of college reps and military recruiters took residence in our canteen, trying to hook the graduating seniors, and get the lowerclassmen to start thinking about their futures._

 _Anyways, I had a plan. I knew what I wanted to do with my life, much to my parents chagrin; I did not plan on going to college after summer. Instead I wanted to be a Marine._

 _You see - I wasn't born a Witwicky. When I was 6 my biological mother passed away and I was put into the system. At 8 I was adopted by Ron and Judy Witwicky, they were told that they couldn't conceive a child, so, they decided to adopt, and they chose me, regardless of my…peculiar attributes, like my vibrant red eyes, and the strange birthmark on the side of my neck that looks more like a brand. Anywho, they picked me and then two years later gave birth to my little brother, Sammy._

 _Back to the point. Before my mother died she had told me about my father. A strong man, a loving husband, and a loyal soldier who would fight to protect his home, his people, his family, and those who couldn't fight for themselves. I've wanted to be just like him ever since I could remember, and the best way to do that, was by joining the Marines._

 _Now onwards, to that fateful day, two days ago. Brace yourselves for the weird!_

 _As I had stated earlier, I was in the canteen at school and was starting to make my way to the Marine recruiting station. I was ready to sign my life away, to become a career Marine. It was my dream…it still is really._

 _As I walked I remember being highly amused at the Army – Marine rivalry happening at the recruiting stations. Each station had two recruiters, a higher rank, and most likely a grunt as the second, though grunt is mostly a Marine term…still. The lower ranking men were having a pushup contest. I stood a small distance away and watched. Cheering for the Marine internally. After several minutes, the Army man stopped and just laid on the canteen floor. Gross. The guy had no idea how many disgusting things were probably on that linoleum tile. The Marine was victorious which, wasn't so surprising._

 _I quickly took this as my chance and walked over to the stations. The Army punk quickly stood and gave me a crude smile. His blue eyes glinting as he looked me up and down. It gave me the whillies._

" _What's a lil' lady like you doin' ova here?" The man questioned. He just had to call me little. I get it I'm short only reaching like five foot two inches in height, but whatever. "If ya lookin to join tha military, maybe tha National Guard would be betta." His southern drawl sassed. He was such a sassy little shit._

 _I narrowed my red eyes at him, glaring. I noticed his name patch: Lockheart. Talk about a lame last name. "I think I'll pass on the National Guard, I'd rather be a Marine."_

 _Both the Marines seemed to perk up at that. The younger one, Name patch reading Harris, came up and placed a hand on my shoulder, with a smile on his face. Green eyes alight with humor._

" _Can ya even do a pushup?" Lockheart had laughed at me._

 _What the idiot didn't know, what no one had known except for my parents, Sammy, and my doctor, was that I am a complete and total freak. It takes a lot to make me even slightly winded, I'm stronger than anyone I've ever met, and guess what? I can't break my fucking bones, because they're made out of some weird metal alloy! Cool right? I'm like some sort of x-men character, it's like some serious wolverine shit. Yeah well not so cool when you find out about that because you fell out of a tree, and your parents made you go to the doctor for xrays. Had my doctor not been a family friend I could have been royally screwed, like shipped away and experimented on screwed._

 _Well needless to say that because of my freaky abnormality, I whooped Lockhearts ass. He looked like someone kicked his damn dog. Afterwards the lead Marine recruiter introduced himself to me. Master Gunnery Sargent Iverson. Real nice guy. He along with Harris are kind of my hero's right now. Ya see, after we sat down and chit chatted and I signed a bunch of papers, making me the Property of the USMC, OORAH! Well after my happy ass signed my life away a bunch of suits marched into the canteen. They Came straight up to me, causing Master Gunny and Cpl Harris…the Cpl stands for Corporal…stand beside me._

 _Well the main suit, who I call Pube Head, whose actual name is Simmons, tried to detain me Master Gunny Iverson and Cpl Harris, were all like "no way, asshole, back off our marine!" and what not, causing a whole big mess and causing Master Gun to get a hold of some big wigs in the Marines._

 _Turns out Pube Head is part of some secret organization called Sector-7. I don't really know what they do, but they wanted me for my abnormality. Fortunatly from me, there was a loophole in which that couldn't happen. I was already the property of the Marine Corps. No S-7 experimentation for me. Like I said. Master Gun and Cpl Harris will forever be my hero's. Now I'm just not allowed to see my family, like ever and I'm under Master Gunny Iverson's command for an unknown amount of time. Oh, and he and Cpl Harris now know about my abnormality. Oh well! At least I get to be a Marine right?_

 _ **End Log**_

 _ **Log Entry #982: Sergeant Witwicky USMC.**_

 __ _I don't understand what the fuck just happened. How could this be even possible? I got shot! In the heart! In the fucking heart and just stood up almost like nothing happened! Hell I didn't even realize that's where I had been shot until Private Milhouse pointed it out. He was so freaked, one minute we're under enemy fire, mortar rounds coming in. Can't see dick because it's a night recon, but I saw it, I saw a red sight on Milhouse so I did what any Sgt would do. I covered my man. GETTING SHOT IN THE HEART IN THE GOD DAMN PROCESS!_

 _Master Gun made me get medevacted even though I told him I was fucking fine! Well guess what? I was right! My physician, my super secret military physician, ran a few tests and minor experiments, turns out my metal skeleton shifts and moves to mold around my internal organs when my body senses danger. Cause I couldn't get anymore freaky! I don't understand what the hell is going on with me! The only thing I'm relieved about right now, is I no longer have to keep my weirdness a secret from my unit. Which is cool cause we're a secret Marine division. Oh, and of course S-7 still isn't allowed to touch._

 _I just…I just wish I could figure out what the hell I am._

 _ **End Log**_

 _ **Log entry #1483 Gunnery Sergeant Witwicky**_

 __ _You'd think I'd get used to my lack of normalcy. Of course not. I just keep rolling with the punches. Getting weirder and weirder the older I become. It's ridiculous. Really, it is, I didn't think it was possible to become even stranger than I already am, I'm pretty sure this takes the god damn cake though!_

 _Let me retract just a little. So we're on another secret night op right? There was something hinky going on, on the border of Qatar. Something super hinky. So, my team was sent to check it out all covert like and stuff. So that's what we did, with myself and a newly promoted Staff Sergeant Harris, did I ever mention that he was part of this secret team with me and MGySgt Iverson? I don't think I did, by the way SSgt Harris is super salty that I've risen higher in rank then him._

 _Anyway. We're on this top secret mission, and scooping out the hinky area, when this fucking…thing! A thing! A metal thing! Just comes out of nowhere and attacks me! Claws the hell out of my face. It was like a living metal bug! SSgt Harris scrapped the bitch though. That's not the worst part though! I was bleeding blue blood! BLUE FREAKING BLOOD! Everything is just so damn weird now. I don't really know what to do with myself._

 _SSgt Harris has tried to cheer me up. He thinks I'm sad over my scarred up face, I'm not it's more worried about my freakiness, but he and the rest of our little group of misfit freaks don't seem to give a rats ass about my weird. It's a bit comforting._

 _Like I was saying SSgt Harris was trying to cheer me up by telling me something. Apparently among the Marine's that aren't in my unit, I'm some kind of myth or legend. The call me the Queen of the Devil Dogs. Nifty right?_

 _ **End Log**_

 _ **Log Entry: Master Gunnery Sergeant Witwicky USMC**_

 __ _It's been nine years since I became a marine. Nine years since I've been able to see my family. I miss them dearly. I've grown up a lot in some ways. I'm still my sassy sarcastic self. I've even become more of a legend in the Marine Corps, so much so that my supposed myth has spread to the other branches of the military. Apparently I'm like some kind of ghost story in the military. Not always a good one either, some Gunny's even use me as a threat to scare the pants off their new recruits and even some privates an Cpl's. It's amusing really, especially now that I've fully embraced my weird._

 _That's not why I'm writing now though. Today is a good day. An exciting day. My unit was supposed to be on co-op mission with the army in Qatar, but our unit was pulled, and with nothing to do, we were put on a sort of leave. My unit is now on inactive duty until summoned. First time in nine years any of us have gotten a damn leave that lasts longer than a damn week, during our week leaves we were never allowed to leave base. Especially me._

 _But this is different. This is why I'm writing. I'm finally going home. I'm siting on the plane right now. I can't wait to see Sammy, having no contact with him but letters for the past nine years has been killer. He's my little brother, I should have been there through his awkward years, though, from what I understand he's still probably in his awkward years._

 _I get to see him. I'm going to see my brother today!_

 _ **End Log**_

I smile slightly, and close my log book, quickly tucking it into my smaller cargo bag that I used for my carry-on. Nervously rubbing my hand over my birth mark, I look out the plane window as we descend.

"See you soon, Sammy."


End file.
